Change
by Kasper ze Chemist
Summary: Brennan reaches her breaking point, but an understanding Booth is there to help. Is she ready to talk about what she has know about for a long time? Some bad language...


Um yeah… this started out as a good idea, but it kinda got lost and well I hate writing sappy things since emotion is totally NOT my territory… but hey, I tried. Let me know what you think. Thanks!Change

Booth walked into the Jeffersonian hoping to get information on the latest case. He hadn't seen Brennan's new intern of the week yet and was hoping to break him in before he left… or got fired. Booth walked onto the platform to see that the grad student was their, his back to Booth. He was average height and Booth could tell that he had floppy brown hair, not much unlike Zach's.

"Hey kid," called Booth so that the kid turned. Booth stopped in his tracks when he saw the student's face. He had a baby face that looked just like Zach's. Was it Zach? "Zach?"

"Um no," replied the student in a deep voice. He extended a gloved hand to Booth. "Richard Danson. I came from University of Miami when Doctor Brennan was looking for new students to work under her. Over the phone she sounded like she was happy with my resume, though once she saw me she frowned. Any clue?"

"Nope, not one. I'm going to see Bo… Dr. Brennan now." Booth walked away, but not turning around once more to get a look. On the way to Brennan's office, he passed by Angela.

"Hey have you noticed that he," Booth pointed to Danson," looks a lot like Zach?"

"Of course Sweetie. We all did. Though I don't think that Bren is taking it well. She's called him Zach four times already today."

"Why doesn't she tell him to leave or say that she found someone better?"

"He's the best out there, almost to her equivalent."

"I see." Booth smiled. "Well let me try to go cheer her up."

"Hun, you are the one for that." Angela gave him a wink before she continued to her office. Booth gave a shake of the head and continued to Brennan's office.

"Mornin' Bones," he greeted. She was sitting at her desk reading some sort of journal.

"Hi Booth," she returned.

"Is there anything new on the Graham case?"

"Zach… I mean Richard is looking the remains now, but it looks like is nothing new." Booth just nodded. He noticed that she didn't pick her head up from the journal. He decided that there was no need to press the issue just yet.

…

She strode into the Jeffersonian, her anger evident in every step. Booth along with the rest of the team was not far behind, each swiping their cards as they walked on. They were dressed in their court outfits, fresh from the courthouse. The accused killer was guilty beyond a doubt as the evidence Booth collected, as well as the identification of the remains. However the defense had also had someone look over the remains who had found something on the remains that was enough to acquit the man.

"How did you miss that?" she asked viscously as she shoved the picture under Danson's face. He took the picture and looked it over.

"I don't know. It's rather small I suppose I just didn't see it." He handed the picture to her.

"It's small? Is that the excuse you are sticking with?"

"Well yes. But you missed it too."

Brennan looked at him in shock. "Excuse me? I was working on the skull reconstruction. You were one of the top young scientists in the world and now you just let a child murderer go free because you missed something!"

Danson ripped the gloves off. "Well I'm sorry I'm not like Zach okay?"

"That's right. You're not like Zach and you never will be. Get out." The others watched from the side as a red faced Brennan was nearly heaving from anger.

"That's okay, I'll prefer to be normal anyway." At those words Brennan moved forward as if to strike the young man. Instead, she turned quickly on her heel and headed towards her office. She appeared moments later with her coat and bag and walked on, not saying a word to anyone else.

Booth moved forward to follow her, but Angela grabbed his arm. "Booth, just give her some time."

"But Angela, she—" Angela just shook her head. Booth pulled back and the others watched as she headed out.

…

Booth was reclined on his couch; take out Chinese food and an untouched beer sitting on the coffee table beside him. The Capitals hockey game was the only light in the room, but he didn't care. His eyes were on the cell phone that lay on his chest. He was worried about where she was and what she was doing. He wanted to call her, but found hard against it. His only hope was that she would call him and let him in so that he can help her. Not that he knew what to do, but he was tired of watching her shoulder her own pain for so long.

He was dozing off; his eyelids half shut when the phone lit up and started buzzing on his chest. He looked at the caller ID and immediately sit up when he saw that it was Brennan.

"Bones," he simply said.

There was din in the background and he could here her giggling. "Boo… Booth I… I can't drive home," she laughed. Great, Booth thought to himself. She was drunk and she had to get a cab home.

"Hello," said the voice of a man over the noise.

"Hi?"

"Yeah I'm the bartender. You're friend's pretty drunk and I took her keys."

Booth slapped his forehead in frustration. "Where's the bar?"

…

Booth fixed his shirt and attempted to fix his hair before walking out the door. He had visited the bar once after a bad day a work a few years before and was well aware that it wasn't in a good part of town. The drive took fifteen minutes on the empty streets. He pulled into the near empty parking lot and turned off the engine.

He entered the building and immediately was assaulted by the smell of cigarettes and alcohol. Brennan was on of the few patrons that were sitting at the counter. He sat beside her and put his arm on her shoulder.

"Boof, how are you?" she asked. "Because I'm really pissed on right now." Booth ignored the chance to correct her; he never experienced a drunk Brennan. "Why are you here?"

"Because you've had enough. Come on, let's go." He stood up and indicated for her to follow, but she didn't. "What's wrong?"

"I..I don't have money." Booth groaned and looked up to the heavens for help.

"Seventy five dollars," said the bartender. Booth looked disbelievingly at Brennan.

"I'm really good at holding my alcohol." Booth just shook his head as the he threw down the last of the bills from his wallet.

"You know buddy, the next time why don't you cut her off next time before she's so drunk off her ass." The bartender shook his head as he tossed Brennan's keys to him.

Booth kept an arm around her as she walked unsteadily to his car. He buckled her into the passenger seat and started to drive off.

The car was silent as Brennan watched the scene pass by her. Booth opened the window to try to get the smell of alcohol out of the air. He kept glancing over at her intermittently, but she wasn't giving up anything in her body language.

They were five minutes from her apartment when she first spoke. "Booth, I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Shit," he cursed as he tried to pull over, but it was too late. Her head was between her knees as she was vomiting on the floor of his car. She continued retching, but Booth left the car. "Are you fucking kidding me," he cursed under his breath. He gestured angrily when he saw that her apartment building was in sight. He counted to ten and then shook his head to clear his mind.

He walked to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. "Are you done?" he asked more harshly than intended. She nodded, thoroughly embarrassed. Booth nodded again and shut the door before getting in on his side. He opened all the windows on the short ride back. He parked in the parking lot and helped her out and up to her apartment.

"What about your car?" she asked as he put the key in the door to let them in.

"If someone wants to take it, they can clean the mess. Come on." They walked into the apartment and Booth ushered her directly to the bathroom. "Take your clothes off and shower. I'll be in the other room if you need help." She nodded. Booth then walked into her bedroom and grabbed a set of clothes for her without invading her privacy too much. He brought the pajamas into the bathroom and left them next to the sink. He picked up the clothes and rolled them together to bring to the kitchen to put into a garbage can.

He returned to the bathroom door when he heard the shower turn off. "Are you okay Bones?"

"Yes," was the weak reply. Moments later she left and headed towards her bedroom. Booth watched from the doorway as she climbed into bed. "I…I'm sorry Booth."

"Shh. Don't worry about it now Temperance. Good night." He shut her door like he would to Parker's, leaving it open a sliver so that he could easily peek in.

He grabbed a bucket and filled it with water and some ammonia before grabbed a few dishtowels and paper towels. He felt like a moron walking down the hall with the bucket, but luckily no one was awake at midnight on a Thursday morning. He opened all doors of the car as he cleaned the inside. Apparently she hadn't eaten beforehand and most of it was the alcohol she had consumed. He scrubbed away with ammonia and then dumped it out on the grass. He walked back upstairs and filled it with water so that he could scrub out any residue. Satisfied that most of the vomit was gone, he closed the doors, but left the windows open a little bit to allow the air to circulate.

After returning upstairs he washed his hands and looked around. He grabbed a bottle of water from her fridge and some aspirin, scribbled a quick note, and left it all on the night stand beside her bed.

…

Brennan awoke with a start. She opened an eye and was assaulted by the red glowing numbers that read 3.45 AM. She sat up and immediately realized it to be a bad idea as her head started to pound. She waited for the pain to subside before attempting it again. This time she was able to sit up. She noticed that there was a bottle of water next to her bed and aspirin, along with a note written in Booth's scrawl.

Look, don't worry about last night. I know that you had a bad night and I've fallen victim to those before. I hope you don't mind that I'm sleeping on the couch, so don't freak out.

Thankful, she took the two pills and stayed in bed a little longer until she could even attempt to get up. During this time she berated herself for making a stupid decision. She had lost her temper at the Jeffersonian and stormed out before getting absolutely wasted. Then she threw up in Booth's car and on herself, while he was trying to be nice by picking her up.

She had to get up and apologize to him. She walked through the hall carefully, using the wall to keep her balance. Just as the note had said, Booth was laying on the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes. He removed his shoes to reveal his crazy striped socks, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up lazily.

Brennan stopped in her tracks five feet from the couch. Something inside of her clicked, perhaps from seeing Booth on her couch after all he had done, but it was enough. Her eyes welled up and she couldn't stop the tears, nor did she want to. She was beyond her breaking point and it could only go downhill.

The first tear streaked down her face for Zach. When he became her grad student, she was ecstatic to have one of the brightest minds working for her. She took him under her wing and she felt almost like a mother to him, at least his mother away from home. When she found out what he had done, a part of her inside broke. She felt like she had lost a child.

The next few tears were for Jack and Angela. She thought that they were so perfect together; that they would grow old and die together like all of the happy ever after stories went. Finding out that they broke up was another change in her already too dynamic life.

The nest tear was for her and Booth. She knew something in their relationship changed. They were no longer partners, but they were best friends, yet sometimes she felt like they were even more than that. She knew something was different when the fake funeral happened. She didn't want to believe that he had died, that one evil bitch was the one that could take what meant the most to her away. She cried herself to sleep that night, knowing that Booth had died to protect her. Sure he had done the same before, but this time she didn't even get the chance to say good-bye. That's when she realized that perhaps she didn't look to Booth as a friend, but maybe something more. And it scared her.

Like the unleashing of a dam, the rest of the tears fell now. She was rooted to the spot, unable to retreat back to her bedroom to cry herself to sleep like she did all too often these days. Maybe she didn't move because she wanted Booth to find out so that she didn't have to hide it anymore, so that she didn't have to pretend that she was strong. It was beginning to take a toll on her and she knew it.

…

Booth tentatively opened one eye. He felt a presence in the room and it was confirmed when he saw the figure of Brennan standing by the couch. He sat up and was surprised to see the condition she was in. Her eyes were red and puffy and he could see the streaks of tears running down her face. He hair was a mess from going to bed right after showering and in the oversized T-shirt that was her pajama shirt, she never looked so vulnerable. Despite her appearance and state of mind, she never looked so human.

Booth stood, but remained behind the couch, leaving some room between them. "Bones, are you okay?" She didn't reply, instead just stood there. Booth took a few steps toward her and when he was close enough, he used one hand to lightly stroke her face. "It's okay, you can talk to me."

Within seconds she burrowing into his chest, crying. Her fists were clinging to his shirt as her body racked with sobs and he put on hand behind her head as he held her close. After a few minutes, she sniffled and leaned her ear against his heart. "I'm so sorry Booth," she said.

"Bones, there is no need to apologize. It happens to everyone at least once."

"No, not like this. Not everyone's life takes a random sharp turn when things are good. Everything is changing."

Booth looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Zach's gone. He was at the Jeffersonian for three whole years, three great years where he learned so much and became everyone's best friend. Jack and Angela aren't getting married they just have awkward moments. I just miss the way everything was, when there were no problems and everyone was happy."

"Bones, part of life is change. We have to learn to accept what is given to us and take what we can from each experience. Drinking ourselves into a stupor and bottling up our feelings gets us nowhere. Sometimes we need these moments to realize that things have changed perhaps for the better, perhaps for the worst."

She leaned back and pulled herself away from him. "We've changed," she whispered so that it was barely audible.

Booth took her by the hand and led her to the couch. "Over time people do develop deeper relationships with the people they call friends. It's just natural."

She shook her head. "No Booth. When I thought that you died I cried for nights on end. You are my best friend and you mean more to me than work itself. But the reason why I so mad was because in that timeframe I was able to convince myself that I think that I liked you more than a friend. You were the person that I always thought of when I was in pain. The night we found out about Zach's things, you were there to comfort me. No one has ever been able to be there for me like that all the time and always have the ability to come through. Ever. I don't know how to characterize it Booth, but you mean so much to me."

Booth couldn't breathe after hearing her words. She confessed her feelings, he walls had fallen and the true Temperance Brennan was shining through. He smiled, happy to know that progress was made. He just hoped that everyone else would be able to appreciate her for what she truly is and not just the hard exterior that she puts on. He took her hand and they intertwined fingers. "Bones, that's called love."


End file.
